


Inspiration

by GALEXY



Series: Evil Within Self-Insert [2]
Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Exhibitionism, F/M, Masturbation, Neck Kissing, Neck Ties, Phone Sex, Porn With Plot, Self-Insert, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Smut, ongoing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-20 17:51:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18997543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GALEXY/pseuds/GALEXY
Summary: “What kind of novel would you write?”“I don’t know,” you slid your bag onto the table, “I’ve always wanted to do a romance novel.”“Romance novel?”“Yeah,” you nodded, “Nothing too flowery though. Those are too much.”“So,” he raised his brows, “the sensational kind?”You blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “Well, yeah. Those seem to be more popular than crime novels anyways. Plus, it would be fun to write.”“That’s too bad,” he smirked, “It’d be nice to help inspire one of those.”You bit your lip, “How would you inspire me?”You're a writer, and your editor has tasked you with a crime novel. He sets you up to interview a detective to obtain some insight. After discovering the detective is incredibly handsome, you decide he might inspire a romance novel instead.





	1. Glass

**Author's Note:**

> So...I started writing this a while ago, and I've debated putting it up here for a long time. It was originally posted on theevilwithindirtyconfessions tumblr blog. It's still kind of an ongoing story with very infrequent updates, but I thought I'd post it and see if I can get any feedback or suggestions.
> 
> Leave a comment if you liked it!

Why did it have to be a crime novel? You’d been writing for four years, and now the publishing company wanted a crime novel of all things. You’d never even read a crime novel before, let alone written one. But according to your editor, “they’re all the rage” and “you’ll never make much in the writing industry if you aren’t well rounded.” You let out a sigh as you turn off your car and look at the motel key sitting in your lap.

Luckily, you’d managed to arrange a meeting with one of the detectives at KCPD for an interview to try to get just a little bit of inspiration—after all, you hadn’t so much as written a word of this new crime novel, and you’re supposed to hand in your manuscripts in six months.

You get out of your car with your laptop case and the key to the hotel room that your editor managed to reserve for you both—why you couldn’t just chat over coffee was completely unclear, but you went along with it all for the sake of the novel.

            Once you made it up the stairs and to the correct number door, you slid the key into the lock and pushed the door open.

            “Oh,” you shut the door behind you, “I didn’t expect you to be here already.”

            “It’s fine,” He got up from his chair, “I was early.”

            Damn, you didn’t expect him to be this handsome. Sure, you’d talked to him on the phone before, but this was not at all what you pictured. He looked gruff and rugged, but, my god, did it ever work on him. His square jaw was lined with stubble. His hair was pushed back so it was off his forehead. His eyes were brown and serious—you’d always been a sucker for a man with eyes like that.

            He crossed the room and held his hand out to you, “I’m Detective Castellanos.”

            “(y/f/n) (y/l/n),” you smiled as you shook his hand. It was calloused and firm. No doubt he worked with his hands on more things than just paperwork. You could see the line of his muscular arms through the fabric of his work clothes. Your eyes travel across his broad shoulders and to the slightly exposed skin of his collar bones due to his loosened tie.

            “So, you’re a writer?”

            You nodded, “Only of a few novels, but I’m trying.”

            “You said you need information about a crime novel?” The two of you walked over to the table and set of two chairs at the far side of the room.

            “Yes,” You sat and fished your notebook from your bag, “My publisher has this crazy idea that I need to write a crime novel, even though I’ve never even read one before.”

            He smirked as he sat across from you, “I take it you’d rather ask a real detective than read a bunch of books about it.”

            “I just don’t have the time to read when I’m supposed to have my manuscript in so soon,” You turned the notebook to a blank page and scrawled his name across the top before looking up at him, “So, what’s the hardest part about being a detective?”

            The interview lasted about an hour. The detective was on his fifth cigarette by the time you got to your last question. You sighed as you closed your notebook, “Thank you so much for the information, detective.”

            “Is that everything you need?” He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray before looking up at you with those eyes of his.

            “I’m afraid that’s all the info I’ll be able to get,” You sighed as you stuffed your notebook back into your laptop case, “I have no idea what else to ask you that could even get me close to having some inspiration for this novel.”

            He watched you for a moment before getting up, “Well, does it have to be a crime novel?”

            “That’s what my publisher wants,” you stood up, straightening your skirt, “I’m halfway tempted to just write something else and hope they don’t eat me when they get the manuscript.”

            “What kind of novel would you write?”

            “I don’t know,” you slid your bag onto the table, “I’ve always wanted to do a romance novel.”

            “Romance novel?”

            “Yeah,” you nodded, “Nothing too flowery though. Those are too much.”

            “So,” he raised his brows, “the sensational kind?”

            You blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “Well, yeah. Those seem to be more popular than crime novels anyways. Plus, it would be fun to write.”

            “That’s too bad,” he smirked, “It’d be nice to help inspire one of those.”

            You bit your lip, “How would you inspire me?”

            He turned to look at you. Those eyes were hard to read. Was he seriously considering it? Or was this just a game? He took a step closer, “Should I tell you?” As he took another step closer your back pressed up against the wall, “Or would you rather I just show you?”

            You looked up into his eyes before reaching up to set your hand to line his jaw, “Why don’t you decide?”

            Your eyes locked for a split moment before his mouth was on yours; rough and demanding. His hands came to rest on your hips, drawing you up against him. You brought the other hand to tangle up in his hair. He tasted like smoke and bourbon—a taste you’d never admit to anyone that you secretly enjoyed. One of his hands came up your back beneath your sweater. The way those calloused hands traced up your spine would be your undoing.

            He took a step back. You made your move to follow him, but he simply picked you up, arms around you. At first you thought he was heading towards the bed, but you were proven wrong when your back pressed up against something cooler. His hand pushed up your sweater a bit, revealing your stomach as he moved down to kiss your neck. You turned your head a bit and looked over your shoulder. A window?

            His other hand slid up into your skirt, circling the very tops of your inner thigh. You let out a moan as his thumb hooked into the waist of your panties, sliding them down until they fell down around your ankles. You blushed and panted as he started stroking you. His stubble was scraping teasingly against the skin of your neck. All of it felt so good. You closed your eyes, moaning at the feeling of what this man was doing to you. That is, until you heard the slightest hitch of him unzipping his pants.

            You blushed darkly as he kissed you once again before whispering, “Turn around.”

            You were in absolutely no position to say no; you wanted him _inside you_ right then and there. You did as you were told, turning around to face out the window as his hands pushed your sweater up to grope your breasts. You let out a gasp not only at the sensation, but at the sight of people on the ground a few flights of stairs below. What if they saw?

            “D-Detective…” you caught hold of the window sill, “Maybe we should draw the curtains.”

            He chuckled, his stubble running down the nape of your neck, “It wouldn’t be inspiration to write if there wasn’t a unique quality or a bit of risk to it, would there?”

            You blushed. He was right there, “Th-That makes sense.”

            He blew over your skin lightly and massaged your breasts in his hands, “Do you want to stop?”

            You shook your head, “N-No. Please…Please keep going.”

            He didn’t take any time with that request. He pushed your skirt up and slid inside. You let out a moan, rocking your hips back against his as your gripped the edge of the windowsill for support. He held onto your hips as he began to set up a rhythm. Slowly at first, but the pace began to increase. You rolled your hips back against him. God, it felt _so good_.

            That’s when he got rougher. He straightened you up, pressing your front up against the window. The cool glass against your breasts and stomach contrasting against his thick heat pounding into your from behind was going to push you over the edge. You were moaning so loud, the neighbors on both sides could definitely hear. He kept thrusting into you, your hair fell in cascades down your back. You’re now bare breasts—when he got your bra off, you had no idea—were pushed up against the glass, creating such a delicious friction, you thought you might explode.

            That was when you came. Hard. Your nails dug into your palm, and you felt his hand come up to enclose around yours. Your fingers wound together in a tight knot and he came shortly after you. You panted, resting your forehead against the glass as his lips traced over your neck, stubble scratching the skin.

            “Now tell me, (y/n), did that inspire you?”


	2. Telephone

You wish you’d taken a picture of your editor’s face when you handed in the first chapter of your new (not a crime novel) manuscript. Fortunately, Sebastian, a wonderful named he’d informed you of the morning after, and his “inspirational” activities had helped a great deal with the story you’d started up when you’d arrived back to your apartment. You’d written in a different backstory for your characters, Adne and Marcus, but the _physical activities_ …well, Sebastian had definitely inspired you.

            By the time your editor had finished reading, his face was red. He cleared his throat and binder-clipped the pages together before handing them back to you, “This isn’t exactly what the publisher wanted, but it’s good. However it isn’t enough right now. You’re going to need more if you want it published.”

            You nodded as you slid the stack of pages back into your bag, “Alright, I understand.”

            ‘Of course, I’m going to need more inspiration if I want to keep working,’ you thought to yourself as you looked back at your editor, “Is that everything?”

            “If that’s all you have for me, then yes,” he pushed his glasses back up his nose and pivoted his chair to look at his computer, “I already made a copy and sent it in to the publisher. It’ll depend on her mood, but if all goes well, I’ll be needing more of that story as soon as possible.”

            You nodded as you got up, straightening your skirt, “Understood.”

            “It’s funny,” your editor turned his chair to look at you again, “I never took you as the type to go for an erotic novel.”

            “Oh,” you blushed faintly as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “Well, it just sort of came to me. It was flowing better than the pathetic inklings of a crime novel I’d conjured up. I just thought maybe this way I could still try something new and hopefully not be in too much trouble.”

            “So meeting with the detective from the KCPD didn’t help?” he raised his brow, “Usually, you’re good with getting an idea once you do some interviews.”

            The mention of Sebastian made the tips of your ears go pink, “I guess it didn’t work this time. Maybe my learning methods are changing,” you laughed nervously before waving and heading out before your editor could ask any more questions.

            It was true that you were grateful for the inspiration, but asking where your inspiration had come from was another story. It was both erotic and intensely embarrassing.

            When you got down to your car in the parking garage and sat down, you looked over at your cell phone, which you’d left in the passenger seat before going inside. You reached over and picked it up before flipping it open. You’d already keyed in Sebastian’s number, but you paused before hitting the dial key.

            Was it really appropriate to call him? Sex was one thing, but it wasn’t like you were really in a relationship with him. He’d left shortly after you’d woken up the morning after without very much of a goodbye. Maybe it would be better off not calling him. You’d just have to get your inspiration somewhere else.

            That thought made you blush. You were terrible with men, and wouldn’t looking for sex make you a little bit of slut? You rolled your eyes at yourself; because sleeping with a man you’d only known for an hour or so wasn’t slutty.

            Maybe you could just rent some movies from the rental store to get inspired. You bit your lip. No, then the guy at the counter would have to look at you while checking the movies out to you. The same with buying them.

You sighed before pressing dial and holding the phone up to your ear. It rang four times before you heard his voice on the other end.

“Detective Castellanos, KCPD,” his voice sounded gruff and tired.

“Sebastian?” you sat down your laptop case in the passenger seat, “It’s (y/n).”

There was a pause. You could imagine him leaning back in whatever chair he was sitting in before cracking half a smile, “I didn’t think I’d hear from you again. It’s been over a week.”

“I’ve been a little busy,” you blushed, “I started writing on a new novel?”

“Oh?” He was probably lighting a cigarette now, holding the cigarette between his first and middle finger and blowing out a steady stream of smoke, “How’s that going?”

“Well, I took the first chapter to my editor today,” you were twirling a loose strand of hair between your fingers, “You should have seen the look on his face.”

He chuckled, “So I take it you aren’t writing a crime novel, then?”

“Not exactly,” you bit your lip again and leaned back I the seat, “But my editor did say that I should keep writing on it. He’ll try to catch the publisher in a good mood to see what she thinks.”

“That’s good to hear,” now you could imagine him tapping his cigarette against the edge of an ashtray he probably kept on his desk, “I’m glad you told me.”

“Thank you for the inspiration,” you blushed darkly.

“It was my pleasure, really,” you could picture the smirk on his face, “If you need any more help, please feel free to tell me.”

“Tonight?” you tried to control the slight catch in your throat, “I need to have more written for my editor as soon as possible, and I was hoping—“

“Or I could inspire you now,” the smirk was probably growing; you could see it crystal clear in your head, “You’re probably in another one of those pleated skirts that you wear at your waist and they stop just above your knee—like you were wearing when I saw you last.”

You bit into your lip and tugged the hem of the skirt down, “What if I am?”

He chuckled lowly, “What color is it?”

You brushed your thumb across the fabric, “It’s navy blue.”

“Hmm,” he mused, “What else are you wearing?”

You blushed darker. This was such stereotypical phone seduction, but you decided to play along. “A black tank top with a cream colored cardigan, black stockings with lace at the top, and cream colored flats.”

He chuckled and you could now imagine him leaning forward to rest his elbow on the desk, still holding his cigarette, “And your underwear?”

“I-I…” your hand on your lap curled, “They’re black—they match my stockings.”

If he wasn’t smirking before, he definitely was now.

“You’re in your car, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yes.”

“You probably haven’t even started it since coming out of the building you work in, have you?”

“N-No.”

He chuckled, “If I were sitting next to you in that car, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

You closed your eyes, leaning back in the seat to concentrate on his words, “Be more specific…”

He paused, and his voice lowered to a whisper, “I’d try my best to remain in my seat, but my hand would start out on your knee. Then it would slowly start creeping up your leg, dipping beneath the fabric of your skirt.”

You kept your eyes closed, and subconsciously felt your own hand creeping up into your skirt. But in your mind, it was his hand.

“Slowly, up until I was brushing the top of your right stocking,” his voice had gone low, “And I’d make light, slow patterns against the lace as I worked up your inner thigh.”

You didn’t realize how hard you were biting your lip until it started to throb. Your fingers were tracing the floral pattern.

“Then my fingers would start to trace the fabric of your panties,” you could hear a small hitch in his breath, “and I’d slip my fingers up and down against your entrance. My brows would start to furrow as you got more and more wet.”

You could see the image in your mind. You could imagine the crease in his forehead as his brows furrowed together in concentration. You could feel the ministrations of his digits against the already soaked fabric of your panties. You head was pressed against the headrest, eyelids fluttering.

“Then only after you were begging, would I push your panties aside and start to press my fingers into you,” there was that hitch in his breath again, “and start sliding them in and out of you.”

You let out a moan as Sebastian’s fingers worked in and out of you. You could see the smirk that would come across his mouth. Feel the way his stubble would be scraping across the side of your neck as he worked.

“And my thumb would come up to stroke your clit—“

That was when you went deaf for a moment; your orgasm rushing through you like a shot. You moaned out his name and your forehead came to rest against the top of the steering wheel. You were panting as your hand trembled, resting against your inner thigh.

As you came down from your high, you heard him chuckle from the other end of the phone, “That sounded intense.”

You bit your lip, “Sebastian…”

“Yes?”

You pulled yourself to sit up better, “I-I need to see you. In person.”

He chuckled, “Just say when.”

You picked up a tissue to wipe off your hand, “As soon as I finish writing my next chapter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr @my-rigamortis-isgettingbad


	3. Countertops

“Do you mind if I smoke?”

            You looked over your shoulder at him as you proceeded to wash dishes. “No, that’s fine.”

             There was the electric click of his lighter before the scent of his cigarette billowed past you. Dinner had gone without a hitch—lots of erotic eye contact, but no hitch. Even now, with your back turned to him, you felt nervous. The only sounds filling your apartment were the clank of dishes settling in the drying rack and his smooth exhales of cigarette smoke.

            “(y/n)?” He got up, stepping closer.

            “Yeah?”

            He sighed, hand coming around from behind you to rest on your stomach. His stubble traced along your neck before he took your earlobe between his teeth. He twirled the end of your ponytail between his fingers and chuckled. “Do you have to wash those dishes now?”

            You blushed. “Well, I’ll never be able to do it with you distracting me like that.”

            He chuckled. “I thought the reason you invited me over was to help inspire more for your novel.”

            “It is, but—“

            He licked up your ear, his breath traveling hot down your neck. “Then let me inspire you.”

            One of his hands slid down your stomach while the other slid up your arm until his fingers were thrumming against the back of your hand. His teeth nipped along the side of your neck. It took a lot of self-control to keep from dropping the glass you’d been washing. You managed to set it back down in the sink along with the wash rag before you felt your body molding into his. You tipped your head back to rest against his shoulder as he nipped and sucked against your neck, pressing you tighter to him with his hand on your hip.

            He chuckled, pulling up from your neck. His lips hovered over your ear before he whispered. “You taste like sugar.”

            The blush came up hot over your cheeks, your eyes half lidded. He turned you around. You looked up into his eyes as he walked you a few steps back. Your back brushed the edge of the counter as he leaned in to kiss you. His mouth was hot. You tangled your fingers up into his hair, tugging at it as his hands slid down your back.

            You slid your fingers from his hair to slide down his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt as you went. You could feel traces of scars across his chest as you undid the buttons, and even more as you pushed it from his shoulders.

            You moved to kiss along his collar, cupping your hand alongside his jaw. You proceeded to kiss down his chest, slowly bending until you were on your knees in front of him. You undid his belt and pants before looking up at him. He was looking back, brow raised in curiosity, but eyes twinkling with no intention of stopping you.

            You kissed along the side of his hips as you slid his dick from his underwear and slacks. You took him into your mouth and he let out a moan, moving his hand to grip your ponytail. The friction of him in your mouth was delicious as you slid your head back and forth. His fist was tight against your ponytail, tugging at your hair in the best way. You looked up into his eyes, sucking. He let out a noise almost like a growl.

            You took more of him into your mouth, feeling him brush the back of your throat. His grip tightened on your hair, but you pulled up before he could finish, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He took your bottom lip between his teeth before lifting you up to sit on the edge of the counter.

            You wrapped your legs around his back, craning your neck down to kiss him. His fingers slid up your thigh, dipping beneath your skirt, and hooking into the waistband of your panties. You lifted yourself up, letting him slide the fabric of your underwear down your thighs and onto the floor. He moved to kiss along the side of your neck briefly, before dropping down to kiss up the inside of your thigh. Your eyes fluttered closed and he pulled you to rest at the very edge of the counter. You wove your fingers into his hair and bit your lip.

            Was there anything that this man couldn’t do?

            His tongue was surprisingly cool against your skin, compared to the searing heat the rest of his body possessed. The tip of his tongue swirled against your clit.

            Your fingers tightened on his hair and a moan poured from the back of your throat. You looked down, wishing you could see his face, but it was buried beneath the fabric of your skirt. A boiling knot seared from the pit of your stomach. The muscles in your thighs tightened. You were so close. You were so close.

            Then he pulled away.

            You whimpered but he only smirked up at you. “Two can play at the edging game.”

            You panted, looking down at him. He stood, pressing his lips back to yours. You draped your arms around his shoulders, liking the way his hand had come down to rest on your thigh.

            He pulled out. “Bedroom?”

            You nodded. “Bedroom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr @my-rigamortis-isgettingbad


	4. Neckties Pt. I

You only pulled away from him to tug off clothes on the way to the bedroom. You were both naked by the time the pressed you against the sheets, save for his necktie, which he had looped around his wrist for some reason. You already had a bit of stubble burn on your face from the intensity of his kisses, but you really didn’t mind.  
Now that you thought about it, this was the first time you’d both been naked. But you were too busy kissing to look at him properly.   
“Mm…” You curled your fingers against his back as he settled himself between your legs. Everything pressed flush together like his was so much more hot and slick and good. You let out a soft whimper when he pulled up. His mocha eyes bore into yours and you let out soft pants. He undid the neck tie from his wrists and gently pinned your wrists down above your head, looping the fabric through a bar in the headboard before tying them.  
“Is this okay?”  
You nodded, blushing deeply before he pulled you in for another kiss, his hands sliding down your sides and hips before landing decidedly against your ass. You let out a squeak as he broke the kiss and pulled your legs up, hooking your ankles against his shoulders.  
“S-Seb-ah~!!”  
And then he was inside. Hot and slick and hard and fuck.  
You forgot what you were going to say. Hell, you forgot how to form words at all.  
He was making these soft grunts above you; one hand on the bed near your waist and the other against one of your thighs, pushing it so it stayed up.  
You rolled your hips, arching up into him, trying to match his thrusts, but it was hard with your hands tied.  
Neither of you lasted long this way. It wasn’t long before you were both sticky with sweat and panting yourselves through the afterglow.  
He placed a kiss against the side of your knee before lowering you gently and untying your hands. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, still turning the fabric in your fingers before flipping you both over, setting your hands against his chest.  
He looked at you, brow raised as you tied his hands like he’d done to you.  
“My turn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr @my-rigamortis-isgettingbad


	5. Neckties Pt. II

“My turn.”  
Your tongue flicked out across your lower lip and he smirked, tipping his head to the side. You’d never been in control before—with anyone—not like this. You straddled his hips, running your fingers deftly up and down his chest. It felt good, being on top. And Sebastian seemed very into it.  
You were kissing along his jaw, then down his neck, then across his collar before you were gazing his left nipple with your teeth. Then his right.  
“Fuck, y/n…” he hissed through clenched teeth, and hearing that, well, that only made you want to torture him more.   
You rolled your hips, brushing his cock with your wet folds, but not letting him slide inside you. His eyes were cinched shut, his jaw clinched. It felt better than you thought it would—grinding had never been your favorite—but this felt so…teetering. It was never going to get you off completely, and it probably wouldn’t get Sebastian off completely either unless he was close. But seeing that he has only just cum moments ago, something told you that you could keep this up for a while.  
You ran the tips of your fingers down his forearms and over his biceps. He opened his eyes to look up at you just as you pulled your hands away and arched back, tossing your hair over your shoulders and lowering your eyelids in a way that you hoped made you look sexy. Judging by the way he arched his hips up against you, it seemed that it was working. He still wasn’t quite hard yet, but he wasn’t flaccid either.  
You smirked, sliding off his hips and starting to pepper kisses down his stomach. Every few kisses, you’d cut your eyes up at him, watching as he tossed his head back, lips parted and panting. You kissed over his hips, setting a hand on either of his thighs before you took the head of his cock into your mouth.   
His breath hitched in his throat and he made eye contact with your right as you looked up at him and took an inch or so more into your mouth. His fists clenched and unclenched in his bonds. He probably wanted to pull your hair. But as nice as that sounded, you were on a mission to keep him tied up like that.  
His whole length didn’t fit, because your gag reflex wasn’t the greatest, so you worked the rest of it with your hand, working at a slow, teasing pace that you could coordinate easily. Sebastian let out a breathy moan, arching his head up to look at you again before laying back against the pillow again. Once he was hard, you pulled up with a pop, still lazily stroking his cock with your hand, trail of drool coming from the corner of your mouth.  
You crept back up the bed, releasing his cock and pressing your mouth against his. He kisses back hungrily and clearly not minding the taste of himself that lingers in your mouth. You’re cupping his jaw in your hand, running your thumb along his cheek bone before biting into his lower lip. You giggle, pulling up and tugging gently at his lower lip with your teeth before letting go and looking into his eyes.  
“Are you ready for the main course, Sebastian?”  
He looks up into your eyes, nodding. That smirk from before crosses your mouth, and you position yourself so your back is to him. You line his cock up with your entrance and sink down onto him, moaning softly at the fullness he gives you.  
You bounce against him, your hands settling on either side of this thighs. Your hair tickles your back, but fuck, this angle is so fun. It reminds you of the way he pressed you against the glass.  
“Oh, God, (y/n)…” he hisses out.   
You turn and look at him over your shoulder before saying. “Are you enjoying the view, detective?”  
He lets out a soft grunt, and your turn back, bouncing against him a little harder now. Your back arches up, and then your bracing him by holding onto his abs. Fuck this is good—why haven’t you ever tried this position. It feels so good to be in charge, to be in control. It’s helping you get off a lot faster than you thought it would.  
“Fuck.” He growls out again, and he’s thrusting his hips up into you to meet your thrusts. You aren’t going to last long like this, you aren’t—  
And when he cums you almost scream as your own orgasm rips through you. Your body racks in toe-tingling shutters. You somehow manage to keep riding him through it all, only stopping once your both done and panting.  
Your legs shake as you pull yourself from him and turn to lay against him, reaching up to untie his wrists before you tuck your head against his chest. He sighs, tossing the tie onto the nightstand before turning you over so he can tuck his head into the crook of your neck.  
This is…different than before.  
“That was…” he pants against you, curling his arms around your ribs. “…so fucking good, (y/n).”  
You nod against him, sliding one arm around his shoulders and the other into his hair.  
“I definitely got a few new chapters tonight.”  
He chuckles, nuzzling against you. “Let me know how they turn out.”  
You smirk to yourself, running your fingers through his hair. “Don’t worry. I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr @my-rigamortis-isgettingbad

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @my-rigamortis-isgettingbad


End file.
